


This Is Who We Are Now

by SmackTheDevil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, M/M, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 15:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5010031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmackTheDevil/pseuds/SmackTheDevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation from the Seven Deadly Sins Series part 7 Wrath: The Infinite Curse of a Lonely Heart which details a mature Dean and Sam Winchester and Sams' declaration of love for his brother. This story begins with a re-posting of Wrath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Who We Are Now

It was that sort of long drive where you get to a certain point and you zone out. Even the person behind the wheel zones out. The monotony of a never-changing road. No conversation. No music. Nothing.

Two hours of silence in the dead of night was about all Dean Winchester to could cope with. It was a small miracle that he had managed to keep his mouth shut for even two minutes.

“Damn,” He said gruffly. He cleared his throat. “I'm getting tired.”

Sam Winchester remained silent. Apparently still deep in the zone.

“Hey, Sammy.”

“Yeah.” Sam blinked a little. “Same. Want to find a motel?”

Dean drove them off the road with haste into a small clearing of leaves surrounded by sporadic trees.

“Or I guess we'll just stop here then.” Sam groaned a little at the thought of a back breaking sleep on the back seat of the Impala.

“You wanted to stop. Don't bitch about it.”

“Yeah, but not right here, Dean.”

Dean switched the engine off.

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up! The past two hours has been a blessed release from the, what is it, two weeks of complaining about every fucking tiny little thing that pisses you off. You're driving me crazy, what the hell is wrong with you? Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“Or right. 'Nothing'. Well, cheer the heck up before I throw you out the car and leave you to the bears.”

“There aren't any bears in this part of the state, Dean,” Sam said morosely.

“Oh my God. Are you fucking kidding me?”

Sam looked down into his lap. He was clearly laden with the heaviest and saddest thoughts. Dean watched his face. He hadn't taken as much notice of him as perhaps he should have these past few weeks, but now he took pity on him. He looked miserable.

“I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm pretty tired. What the hell is wrong you? Huh?” 

Sam just shrugged.

“Sammy.” Deans voice deep and fatherly. “Talk to me.”

“I really can't.”

“Can't or won't?”

“Both.” Sam pulled a face, turned a little to face his brother then curled his hair behind his ears.

“Damn. This is serious.” Dean noticed Sam often did that with his hair when he needed to tell him something important.

“You have actually stopped in the ideal place for this.”

“Okay? Keep going.”

“Okay, so this is the thing.” Sam swallowed hard, his Adams' Apple bobbing a little. He paused.

“And the thing is?” Dean motioned at him as if to try and help him along.

“The thing is, Dean. The thing. Thing..”

“What the fuck is the fucking thing, Sammy?!” Dean yelled, making Sam jump a little. “Sorry.” He patted Sams' arm. “Sorry, carry on.”

“Well, what it is. Is that, well I've been having thoughts.”

“Okay. What like Lucifer thoughts?” Dean eyed him suspiciously before glancing at the palm of Sams' hand.

“No.” He shook his head. “No don't worry, nothing like that.” Sam laughed softly, but Dean wasn't exactly comforted.

“Can you hurry this up? I really need to pee.”

“Pee first, then I'll tell you.”

“Well, you can't do that. Tell me quickly.”

“It's fine. Just go pee.”

“Fucking tell me, Sammy!”

“I love you!” Sam spat then slammed a hand over his mouth.

Dean frowned.

“Well, I love you too little brother. Not exactly huge news but you know, we've seen some shit together, it's good to know the love is still there.” Dean smiled at Sam affectionately. Sam, still with a hand over his mouth, shook his head slowly. “No?” Dean leaned forward and pulled his hand away from his mouth.

“Not like that,” Sam whispered.

“Huh? I'm gonna pee my pants any minute. What the hell do you..”

Sam leaned into his brother and kissed him. Not hard, no pressure, just gently, right on the mouth. Dean just sat there for a moment.

“I'm gonna go pee.”

Sam sat silently. Dean didn't even look at him as he climbed from the car and marched over to a tree. 

To Sam, Dean from the back looked like a man peeing but he knew that it wouldn't be long until he was laying into him.  
He remained still has Dean turned around. 

"Get out of the car!" He yelled. Sam sat still. "Get out of the damn fucking car you little bitch!" Sam chewed the inside of his mouth and exited the Impala.  
He moved toward his brother already on the defensive holding his hands out. 

"Please don't be mad Dean."

"Are you seriously telling me how to feel right now? "

"Well, no. But." 

"Good. Now shut up!"

Dean was breathing heavily. Fists clenching. He wanted to scream at his brother but for once he was actually lost for words. 

Sam stood still. He didn't know what he was feeling. He knew that maybe his revealing feelings like this for his brother was misguided but unlike anything in his life before, it was eating him up inside. "Dean, please. Let me explain."

"Why should I?" He barked back.

"Because at least then you'd know why. Don't you want that?"

Dean shrugged. 

"Hear me out. Okay?" Sam paused. For a man about to pour his heart out, he felt surprisingly calm. He knew also he could lose Dean this way. It was a risk he was willing to take for his sanity. The need for his brother was slowly killing him. “I..I get lonely.”

“Huh?” Dean shifted from one foot to the next, his fingertips in the pockets of his jeans.

“I get lonely, Dean.”

“Okay?” Dean shrugged. Shrugging was all he could manage right now.

Sam sighed and rubbed his forehead hard, letting out a low grunt of frustration.

“I mean, sexually and I dunno just recently I've just felt..” Sam couldn't speak. It was so clear in his mind, but Dean looked furious and disgusted and also a little sad.

“Felt what?” Dean blinked a few times. He knew what Sam was going to say, he wanted to hear and he didn't want to hear it.

“Feelings, uh. Feelings towards you. Yeah.” Sam winced taking the tiniest step backward.

Dean was now grimacing and frantic face rubbing. He looked at his brother, he was slouching and toying with a button on his jacket.

“What do want me to say exactly? Hm?” 

“Dunno.” Sam shrugged.

“You feel better for telling me?”

“I don't know.”

Dean rolled his eyes then strode toward his brother, Sam stepped back, his feet tripping over exposed tree roots. He found his balance and gripped his brother's jacket tightly before pulling himself up. Dean's hand slid up under his brothers, his fingers curling around Sams' shirt.  
“This ain't ever gonna happen. You got that?” He shook Sam a little as if to drive his words into his brain.

“Okay.” Sam rolled a shoulder to release himself from Dean and then fell backward against a tree and slid down it, his body bumping against the prominent knots. His ass hit the ground and then he sobbed.

Dean was still furious. Confused and so mad with his little brother.

“Am I gonna have to beat this out of you?” Dean growled.

“What?” Sam sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

Dean reached down and grabbed Sam by his jacket collar.

“Get off me!” Sam wound his arm above his head twisting Deans' arm in the opposite direction.

“I ain't having you getting all down on me over this. It's stupid!”

“Is this you telling me how to feel, Dean?”

Sam grabbed hold of Dean and pulled him in close. Dean pushed with his forearms, but Sam had overpowered him.

“I swear to God, Sammy. If you don't let me go.”

“What you gonna do, huh?” 

Dean clawed at his brothers' chest, grazing his skin before screaming and finally pushing Sam backward against the tree. Sam winced and immediately clutched the back of his head. It was bleeding.

“Jesus Christ, Dean!”

Dean rubbed his face then knelt on the roots of the tree.

“This is all on you. You perverted little bitch.” He tried to check Sams' head, but he was pushed away. 

“I hate you.” Sam sobbed.

“Well, that's about one hundred times more normal than wanting to fuck me.” He shook his head as he spoke. “Sammy, what the hell is going on with you, buddy?”

Sam sat silently, still smarting from Dean calling him a pervert. He looked up at his brother, his tears glassy, and red. He shook his head.

“I don't know what to do.”

 

Dean grabbed Sam by the collar of his jacket again and tugged. 

"Get up. I ain't standing on the side of the road with you bleeding and crying." He tugged again. 

"I can do it. Let go." Sam held a hand up, ready to punch, his eyes not blinking, still and glassy. Dean relented. 

"Okay. Do whatever. I'll be in the car."

Sam sat for a moment. Even his brothers walk was mad. The back of his head was throbbing and hated that at some point he would have to ask Dean to check it. With his hands behind him climbing up the tree, he got to steady feet, smoothed down his jacket and joined his brother in the Impala. 

They drove another 3 hours in silence. Sam had so much more to say it was making his throat hurt as if the words were fighting their way out of him. Every so often glancing at Dean whose eyes never strayed from the road ahead.

Four hours passed and finally welcoming lights up ahead. Sam looked at his brother, keen for some kind of sign that they would finally get some rest. He stole himself.

“Do you want to stop here?” He was barely audible, but Dean knew and promptly signaled and pulled into the parking lot of yet another dimly lit motel. Sam fell into auto-pilot. He followed his brother to the trunk to get their stuff, followed him to reception and then trudged along behind him to their room. “I thought you would get separate rooms.”

Dean stopped, key wedged in the lock of the room door. He shot his brother a look.

“Seriously? If you have some secret stash of money shoved up your ass to pay for two rooms, then be my guest.” 

Sam shrugged.

“Didn't think so.” Dean unlocked the door, it stuck as he opened it, never a good sign.

The room was a dive. One of the worst. Dank, cold and had probably been the setting for one or two murders in its time because it as sure as Hell smelled like it. Dean threw his carry-all onto one of the twin beds.

“Awesome. Apparently there is a motel room for every mood.”

Sam smiled weakly, he was desperate to talk but knew any attempt would be futile. He knew his brother better than he knew himself. A stubborn ass who often didn't think about how anyone else was feeling, just how whatever it was made him feel. How, in this instance, Sams' feelings were such a fucking inconvenience to him. Like he needed more shit to deal with. Sam also knew that Dean loved him and hated seeing him hurt.

“Dean? Can you check my head? The bleeding has stopped, but the cut feels pretty deep.”

Dean, not being that much of an ass pulled his jacket off with an angry flap and nodded an 'of course' at his brother.

“Sit down, you fucking giant.”

Sam winced as Deans' grubby fingers probed his head.

“Ow!”

“Quit whining, you big baby.” Dean stepped back. “Yeah, you need stitches. Ain't driving anywhere now. I'll do it.”

Brilliant, Sam thought. A whiskey-soaked botched medical procedure in a filthy motel room with his prepossessing brother pressed up against his back.

Dean fumbled around in his carry all retrieving a bottle of whiskey and a basic 'fix-your-brothers-head-up-quick' kit. Sam was sliding awkwardly out of his jacket and pushed up the sleeves of his plaid shirt. He was trying his best not to be there, trying the impossible to make himself look small, just so Dean wouldn't see him and wouldn't hate him.  
Dean handed him the whiskey bottle. 

“Drink and tense, buddy.”

Sam half-smiled, Deans' face was blank and on task. Sam wondered if he tried to speak Dean would walk away mid stitch. He took a long swig of whiskey. It made his body shudder as it hit his empty belly. Deans fingers closed around the wound and began the painful procedure.

“You know. I ain't denying you've had it hard.” Dean paused, Sam frowned, the bottle of cheap liquor pressed against his chin. “Hell, we both have and I'm telling you now, it ain't gonna get any easier.”

“I guess not.” Sam hesitated. Unsure as to whether his voice was welcomed in this unexpected exchange. 

“So, we need to stick together.” Sam rolled his eyes. Damn family values again. He and Dean were just merely broken pieces of what was once a poor attempt at family. And now, these two pieces move from place to place. Go to hell and back and Dean still wants to talk about sticking together because of blood.

“We will. We do.”

“We won't if you keep coming up with stupid ideas.”

“It wasn't.” Sam needed a shot of whiskey for this one. “It wasn't, I mean it isn't a stupid idea.”

“Well, it ain't normal.” Dean was getting riled again and sewing up Sams' delicate torn scalp a little too aggressively.

“Dean, seriously. Take it easy.” Sam cowered and stroked as close as he could to the cut on his head. Dean batted his hand away. “It's not stupid,” Sam muttered. His eyes started to feel hot and heavy, he made a fist, his nails, too short to even leave a mark, sunk into his palm. He was thankful Dean couldn't see him, but Dean had ears and he wasn't stupid.

“Are you crying again?” 

“Just sew me up, get it done. You started this conversation and I'm ending it.” Sam held his breath, his throat was tight and his head was muggy.

“Nearly done, okay?” They fell silent again. Only breathing and Sams' poor attempt at keeping himself composed filled the space they shared. Dean finished up and nudged Sam gently in the back with his knee. “There.”

“Thanks.” Sam turned around and smiled at Dean. His face was red and patchy, his eyes swollen and laden with ready to fall tears.

“This is not good.” Dean had seen his brother at his absolute worst and he was looking at it right now.

“No. It really isn't.”

Dean placed a hand over his mouth then dragged it down his face. Hands on hips, he shrugged.

“I don't know.” 

“Yeah, keep saying that few times and you might be where I am right now.”

“It's weird.”

“Yeah.” Sam gave Dean a 'you don't say?' look. “And also very real.”

“Is it, though? I mean it's you. Sammy. Sam Winchester. The weird follows you around, you ain't the 'weird'.”

“Yes, I know that too. And I also know you're trying to process and I have to say, I'm pretty glad you've past angry.”

“Okay.” Dean nodded and laughed. “Past angry, am I? Buddy, I am angry. Okay? I hate seeing you like this. Always hated seeing you hurting no matter who or what was to blame. But past angry? Oh, I'm right there in the middle of fucking angry Sam.” Dean's voice deepened and ruptured into a bark. “Hell, I'm having an orgy of anger right now. You wanna know why?” He paused.

“I..I guess.” Sam sniffed away snot and rubbed at his face with his hands.

“You guess? Well, I'm gonna tell you. What kind of fucked up life do you have to have when things get so bad that there is no one else left on this Godforsaken planet except your brother? What could go so fucking crazy to make you think 'Hey, ain't no one else out there gonna put up with my shit. The demons, the fucking psycho angels and all the rest of the insane crap we have to put up with every single day of our miserable lives.”

Sam was sobbing now.

“Is it really that bad now that all I'm gonna be good for is sitting in strip joints and picking up skeevy bitches in bars, just so I feel like a member of the Goddamn human race?!”

“But Dean.” Sam sat quite still for a man in so much mental pain.

“No. No 'but Dean'. This is our life. Sam. And look at you. You're so fucked up, you want your brother.”

“I love you,” Sam spoke with impressive solid conviction through sobs.

Dean felt sick, he bent over, his neck was red and heavy with veins. He palmed his knees with his hands. Then looked up at Sam.

“I..I love you too. You're my brother. But you have to stop this.”  
Sam stood up and carefully walked towards his brother as if he was an unexploded bomb. Dean was still bent over, breathing heavily and trying his damnedest not to cry. Sam grabbed his biceps, his own arms outstretched and pulled him up slowly.

“Of all the things we have kept from one another. Why did you have to tell me this?”

“Because I needed to tell someone and you're the only someone I have.” Sam smiled weakly. “This isn't news for me, Dean.”

Dean politely prized his arms away from his brother.

“Well you know that's funny because it kinda feels like you just came up with it last night.”

“Are you being sarcastic? I can't tell.” Sam frowned.

“No. Seriously, I mean it. You just drop a bombshell like this, out of the blue, you ain't ever said anything before.”

“It's been forever,” Sam spoke with a little well-needed tenderness.

“Jess?” Dean held out a hand as Sam was expected to place an explanation into his palm.

“Well no, she never knew.”

“Was she your real girlfriend, dumbass?!”

“Of course she was, Dean. I'm not gay if that's what you're thinking.”

“I'm so confused.” 

Sam couldn't help but let out a little breathy laugh, Dean didn't join him. He stumbled backward and hit the edge of his bed hard. His ass catching the edge of his carry-all loaded with weapons.

“Damn-it!” He groaned and rubbed his ass then his face as if to try to massage some sort of coherent thoughts into it so they bleed into his brain and make him feel normal for fucking once.

Sam got up and grabbed a chair from the corner, dragged it over next to Deans' bed and sat down in front of him, his knees grazing his brothers.

“Personal space,” He muttered. “You're as bad as Cas. Oh no, you're not, you're worse. At least he doesn't want to 'do me'!” Dean lazily made air quotes with his fingers then flopped backward onto the bed again falling onto the cache of weapons in his carry-all.

“Jesus fucking Christ, will you c'mon already!” Dean pulled the bag from under him and threw it across the room, guns and knives sliding across the floor. Sam jumped. His chair snagging on the carpet.

“It's not about sex, Dean.”

“So you want me to take you out to dinner? You know that ain't me.”

“No, it's not all about sex, I mean.”

Deans' eyes were fixed, staring at the ceiling.

“You want dinner and sex?”

Sam sighed heavily and dropped his head. His hair hanging over his face, arms resting on his generous thighs, fingers loose and blood-stained.

“No, Dean. I don't want those things. I just.” Sam had thought about everything concerning his brother. This day, the day after telling him. Dean saying yes and kissing him. Dean fucking him. Dean leaving him.

“Well, what?” Dean sat bolt upright, no straining, just up like a shot. “Because I'm starting to feel a little guilty here.” 

“Why should you feel guilty?”

“I don't know, er, making you quit college.” Sam attempted to interrupt. Dean held up a finger to silence him. “Making you feel guilty about Dad. And that ain't even the tip of the ice cream.”

“Berg. It's iceberg.”

“Seriously?” Dean shot his brother some serious shade.

“So.” Sam sighed heavily, a signature 'Sam sigh'. “Basically, what you’re saying is that I have feelings for you because of your actions or whatever.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you even know what you're talking about right now, Dean?” Sam stood up, he always knew in his gut that this conversation would not go anywhere near well. He knew that it was a massive risk and one that could kill their bond forever. Everything else had tried to kill it and this revelation was sure to cause some kind of trouble. But, Sam had suffered and to him, it felt like damn suffering, with feelings for his brother for many years, from teenage hood and right up to now. Looking up at him, all freckles and green eyes. As far as Sam was concerned, it was now or never.

“I don't. No, but then I never, even in my wildest shower thoughts thoughts.” He frowned at his own turn of phrase. “Did I ever think, 'Oh I'll imagine having a conversation with my baby brother about how incest would be a capital idea and then when it happens in real life. I'll be prepared. You're making me hurt, Sammy and I don't like it.”

Sams' belly flipped. He could see it, his brother was hurting. The anger, he thought, was way better than the hurt. Sam moved from chair to bed next to his brother, he was half expecting Dean to move or flinch, but he sat stock still.

“This is why, Dean. It's the hurt. I'm sick of feeling hurt and alone and just like there is nothing good in this world. I know I'm never going to have the wife and kids and picket-fence house but, in all honesty I don't think have ever wanted that.” Sam laughed through his nose at the absurdity of it all. “It's always been you, Dean.”

Dean felt sick but at the same time was taking great comfort from having his brother close to him. Even when Sam was the cause he was the comfort.

“I have thought about it all. A lot. Every day we're together and every time we're apart. I think you know, Dean that I don't go anywhere unprepared. I do my research, I think about what I'm dealing with. I learn about it and then after that I feel ready enough to deal with whatever it is this weird life of ours has thrown at me. And, yeah, it's exactly how I approached this mess.”

“At least you know it's a mess,” Dean spoke quietly, ever impressed with his brothers logic, even in the darkest of times.

“It needn't be.” Sam meant either way. He knew the odds of his brother reciprocating feelings were slim, but he had prepared himself and had made peace with it.

Dean inhaled heavily and sat up straight. He shifted his body away from his brothers' a little.

“Dean, I'm not going to jump you.”

“I know. You're just hot.” Dean rolled his eyes and stood up. “I meant by temperature, your body. Your body is hot. The heat. Goddammit! See what you've done?!” 

“Don't be stupid, Dean. We talk like that all the time. Means nothing.”

“Oh okay. Nothing. It don't mean nothing now?”

“Of course it doesn't.”

“How do I know that you didn't think that was some sort of line?” 

“Because I don't think like that, and we're not in the middle of some trashy soap opera. I didn't fall for your terrible pick-up lines, Dean, give me some credit.” Sam scoffed a little, brushing invisible dust from his thigh.

“Seriously? Insults now?” Deans' hands were on his hips.

“It wasn't an insult. I just said that your lines, the ones you use to pick up women aren't my thing. It's not why I find you so s...” 

Dean held up a hand.

“No, no. Still not ready to hear that kind of stuff yet, buddy. Not sayin' I'll ever be. But I'm just sayin'.”

“You're really good at the talking.”

“What the hell did you think I was going to say about all this, huh? This conversation is going around in fucking circles!” Dean raised his voice and then dropped it again. “You know what. I'm sick of this, I've been driving for fucking hours, playing nursemaid to you and trying to wrestle with your fucked up news that you want to bone me. Forgive me if I'm a little mad here. And, in case you're wondering, no we will not be continuing this conversation in the morning. It is done. Okay? Business as usual.”

Sam felt utterly dejected. He was left not knowing what to think as he watched Dean bounce from one emotion to the next. Leaving it was never going to solve anything. They would slip back into their 'normal lives'. Saving people. Hunting things. The fucking family business.

“No. I want one word from you Dean. And I promise you I will carry on and I will move forward and deal and this will become yet another thing the Winchesters' survived. Because. Forgive me, you haven't actually told me no. You haven't actually said it really disgusts you. You haven't really said very much at all. Have you, Dean? Why is that?” Sam was borderline furious now, which took a lot. Furious with his brother for dancing around the subject and avoiding an end to it.

Dean ignored him, he had told him, but Sam had chosen not listen so he went about his bedtime' ritual. Throwing clothes, stomping, slamming and huffing.

“Real mature, Dean.” Sam was on his feet following his brother from place to place, picking up clothes thrown on the floor, setting a knocked down lamp straight and then finally standing at the bathroom doorway clutching Deans' t-shirt and pants while he stood there in his boxers brushing his teeth aggressively.

“Go away. Put my clothes down. Get undressed and go to bed.”

“No.” 

Dean glared at his brother through the mirror as he spat a foamy glob of toothpaste into the sink. Sam threw the pile of clothes on the floor. With no towels in the bathroom, Dean bent down and picked up his t-shirt that Sam has just dropped and wiped his mouth. 

“Get out of my way.”

Sam now had an arm across the doorway.

“No. We need to finish this now, otherwise we will never move on.”

“I'll manage.” Dean, not about to start rough housing his brother to get him out of his path, now spoke calmly. “So please, Sam. Move your arm and let's just go to bed.”

Sam was defiant.

“I won't manage until you give me something. Please, Dean. Just tell me that anything between us is impossible and I promise you I will just drop it.”

“Is that the answer you want?” Dean folded his arms. 

“Why are you prevaricating?

“Huh?”

“It seems like you don't know what to do.” 

Dean was cold now. Cold, confused and desperate for the bitch of a day to end. He nodded to himself then looked at his brother and smiled softly.

“Sammy, I love you. You know why. I ain't gonna say, but I will say one thing. Nothing, like that, is ever, ever gonna happen between us. You understand me? I know it ain't the answer you wanted but hell, I ain't about to start some weird fucked up brother love thing. It ain't my style and think you know that. So please. Let me by and we'll go to sleep and just, well, tomorrow is another day, right?”

Sam felt his throat knot then let his hand slide down the bathroom door frame. Dean patted him on the shoulder as he passed him.

“Get some sleep, little brother.”

Sam inhaled deeply, so deeply that his chest hurt, he nodded to himself and managed a smile. At least he knew for sure, he thought to himself, at least he knew now. He would deal, he was capable of bouncing back from anything.  
He moved toward the sink, ran some water and cooled his face. He heard Dean climb into bed and nodded at his reflection.

“You'll be fine,” He whispered to himself as Dean laid in bed now burdened with the biggest lie he had ever told.

 

Clawing his way out of Hell had been easier than trying to get to sleep. Sam was snoring softly, still congested from the crying earlier in the night.  
Dean wasn't entirely sure what had happened between him and Sam and wondered if it was some Angel shit again, but he knew that it was real and that there was no way of avoiding it.  
And it wasn't like Cas could just up and help and Angel-zap his ass out of the situation. It was very real and his brain hurt.

The clock radio clicked from 3:52 to 3:53, Dean had been staring at it for around thirty minutes. He kind of understood how Sammy could now sleep. He had gotten his answer and Sam was strong and sensible and able to cope. But where was he? Dean. Where was Dean in all this now? This time yesterday he thought he knew himself. Dean Winchester, hunter, brother, anybody's for a bacon cheeseburger and part-time womanizer.  
Yeah, Dean thought. That dude was gone now. Snatched away by three little from the one person who he loves more than anyone in the world. But not in that way? Did he just question himself? Seriously.

3:57 now. Still wide awake. Sam had stopped snoring and was now on his side facing his brother, mouth open, hair flopping over his eyes. He looked the same now as he did when he was 7, laying there, out for the count. Dean always thought Sam was slightly better looking than himself. Only slightly and then Dean had the added bonus of charm. Sam was awkward around women and it made Dean cringe watching him. Maybe that's why? Nah, he was such a slut for Ruby, and who wouldn't be, she was hot. Demon, Dean, she was a demon. Plus he was off his little ass on demon blood at the time, he would have banged a camel if it had asked politely enough. Ruby was hot, though, at least her meat-suit was, poor little bitch.

4:01 Sam had moved, shifted onto his back again, his t-shirt riding up. He really filled the bed. Dean wasn't short, not one bit, but Sam was a fucking giant. He had gone from skinny college twink to bear in only a few years. Dean wondered why he was suddenly using gay terms and then wondered where he had picked them up. His train of thought switched. Horror movies. That's what it is. They always have those inbred families in them murdering young blonde girls wearing hot pants and crop tops. Oh man, hot pants. Sam in hot pants. Huh? No, not Sam in hot pants. Murdered teenagers in hot pants. Too young? But she was murdered by some bunch of freaks with fucked up webbed feet or some other shit because they all banged one another. Mom's and sons and fathers and daughters and brothers and their hot brothers. No, just regular brothers. Brothers' can't procreate so that would be okay. Dean nodded to himself. Good word will have to drop that in somewhere tomorrow. Oh, but we're not talking about it anymore. Shit, oh well.

4:15 Dean was hot. The bedsheets were up around his neck and wondered that if he pushed them off himself, it might tempt Sam even more. But then Sam wasn't like that. He wouldn't do that. The worst he could do was look and perhaps wonder what Deans' dick would taste like. I wonder if he's thought that already. Ew. Deans' dick twitched the tiniest amount. He chose to ignore it.  
Anyway, tomorrow they had a case. Possible haunting, not sure. A few hours drive. Sam. And then maybe settle somewhere for a few days. Sammy. Yeah, Might be time to try a hotel for a while. Dean thought they deserved to stay somewhere nice. Twin beds. Of course. Darling Sammy. An awesome shower, it would have to have an awesome shower. Dean turned his head and watched his brother, his arms up above his head. It's so obvious.

4:23 Dean could smell something weird. It was just damp but perhaps inbreds had been here murdering people because they were so crazy in love with their own family members they all lost the freakin' plot. Of course not. He's always so tanned. I don't know how. Sam was on his side again. He was always a fidget, even when they were little and often shared a bed. It never bothered Dean, it wouldn't bother him now. Sam you bastard for doing this. Everything was going okay and normal, well yeah, I know our kinda okay and normal and now this and I can't honestly say I remember such a mind-fuck. That's it, it's a mind-fuck. His nose is perfect. And he loves me?

4:52 Dean had been asleep briefly. And Sam wasn't in his bed. He sat up and called him. He was in bathroom and leave me alone. He laid back on the bed, palmed his hard dick and pulled the covers up to his waist. Sam came out from the bathroom, t-shirt off and got back into bed. Dean said goodnight and Sam remarked that it was almost five am and that if he wanted any help with his boner, he only had to ask

 

4:53 Dean clutched his dick as if it had suddenly been broadcast on every TV channel on the continent. Wow, what a cocky little bastard his brother was being. But then, his dick was ridiculously hard and clutching it like his life depended on it wasn't helping. He if got up to go to the bathroom, Sam would know and he certainly couldn't start jacking off next to him. Wow, his back is like huge and brown and smooth. And, can he hear me?

5:15 Dean felt angry again because his mind was unraveling and surely this kind of thing didn't just happen. I mean, if. Well not if. But say, someone, I dunno in the UK was told that his brother loved him and thought he was hot wouldn't it take like a lot of thought about whether to say okay, let's give it a shot. But I ain't gay but then neither is Sam. What if I just kiss him or something? I mean what could be wrong about a kiss. Wow, mom and dad would be so proud and now I'll scream internally.

6:01 Dean had fallen asleep again, deeply for about 45 minutes and something woke him. And that something was Sam, he was laying next him. Not touching, just laying there, almost like he used when they small and Sam was scared or lonely. Sam said morning. And Dean remarked about how he had been asleep for like an hour and saying that didn't really count. Sam asked him if had lied earlier, before they went to bed. Dean sort of fell over his words and couldn't really get out of it. He said that he hadn't had thoughts and certainly didn't feel the way Sam did but admitted that Sam had unearthed something deep rooted and hidden but there all the same.  
They talked for a long while about how neither of them had much success with women. Dean just bowling through life scoring notches on his bed post and Sam who could never settle because as much as the girls were nice they weren't Dean.

6:42 Sam was crying now. Not the wailing banshee from earlier, Dean thought. Hurt tears. Tears that told Dean that no matter whether he thought they belonged in The Hills Have Eyes, Sams' feelings were very real and it was slowly killing him. Dean asked if that was why he had been so keen to sacrifice himself to save him and sometimes the world. Sam nodded that while not always, that yes, once he thought himself better dead than a life pining for his brother. Dean choked back tears and he felt hurt all over again.

7:32 Dean was holding him now. Sam. Just wrapped up in his arms, this man-child curled up with his knees to his chest, rocking a little and gripping Deans' arms like they were free falling through space. Sam sniffed and asked if he remembered that time Dad had been gone for almost two weeks and they had been fighting because Dean had spent the last of the food money on pot. Dean laughed and said that he did but then recalled the real detail of that evening. Oh shit, he said. I get it now.

7:35 Dean told Sam that he had buried what had happened when Sam had just turned 15. To him, it was just a thing that boys do but to Sam it had been the start of everything. Course he didn't hero worship John Winchester like his big brother did because he was too busy hero worshiping his beautiful big brother. After that night, the night where Sam had gotten upset because they had kissed after the fight, Sam had fallen in love with him and had never stopped. Dean explained, even though Sam didn't need that night explained to him, as he had retained every single last detail, that the kiss was messy and lasted for about two seconds. To fall in love with Dean Winchester, two seconds is all it takes, Sam told him.

 

“Thank you, for being nice,” Sam said as he slid from Deans' arms. “I know it was all a little hard to take, but I'm really happy we can move on.”

Dean just nodded. However, he had dug this little hole for himself. He had turned his brother down which perhaps was stupid because he's a great catch. And now that Sam is walking around 'at peace' knowing that he and his brother will never happen, he will go on and form new relationships and probably one day fall in love again. Dean didn't know if he was able to sit back and watch that happen and it scared him that he thought that.

“Are you sure you're okay with me saying no an' all?” Dean climbed out of bed. Hands running over his hair and flexing his arms a little.

“Of course.” Sam smirked and wondered if Dean could be any more obvious. “Listen, I asked you, not as a whim but because I wanted a firm no. And I got that. Dean, I kinda knew you wouldn't say yes, so as I said earlier, I came prepared.” Sam bit his lip, he'd never done that before when Dean had been walking around in front of him in boxers or less. He had always been able to hide it behind a mock grimace or a frown. But Dean seemed quite keen to flirt and Sam wasn't going to stop him. “But also.” Sam moved over to his brother, invading his personal space like crazy. “I didn't want you to turn around and say 'Why don't we give it ago, baby?', you know?”

“I wouldn't say that to you.” Dean blinked slowly and licked his bottom lip.

“You're saying it right now, Dean. Less face it, you've never been subtle.” Sam stepped back and scoffed then grabbed his carry-all.

“Don't be a dumbass. I ain't gonna hit on you because you're vulnerable.” 

“Isn't that how you get laid, like 75 percent of the time?” Sam pulled a clean t-shirt out from his carry-all and put it on.

“I ain't saying it's nice, but it works.”

“You're a douche.”

“But a lovable one.” Dean held his arms out and winked at his brother, he felt pretty happy that things had calmed down. Last night he was ready to send Sam off packing, alone and off into the sunset forever.

Sam frowned at his brother, it was always slightly unsettling when Dean was this happy. He was so good at moody, stubborn, grumpy and angry because happiness in their fucked up lives was so hard to find.

“What's happened to you?”

Dean shrugged, the smile waning from his face. Sam was really good at hiding things. Almost a decade of hiding the fact he was in love with his own brother and now Dean, his own morals and feelings put into question only 6 hours ago and he had been busted already.

“Argh, I got to thinking about you in the night and it did things.”

“It's because it's taboo.” Sam was quite confident that was the answer to his brother's dilemma.

“Sam, I ain't having you telling me that. I know what I'm thinking and feeling and it ain't taboo, it's because it's you.” Dean groaned at his inadvertent poetry and tried to rephrase it. “Because it's you, not because it's so fucking wrong! You're a beautiful man, Sammy. I ain't gonna deny it.”

“Dean, please don't do this. I'm really okay. I don't want to be a guinea pig. Whether my brother can stomach kissing me.”

“I wanna do more than that.”

“No. You don't. Trust me, okay? I'm not doing this now, you told me exactly how you feel last night and for the third time, I was prepared for it and I took it and everything is great again.” 

Dean shook his head.

“No, this is not good now. It's gone bad. I really, right now could not give rats skinny ass about how you're all like Boy Scout prepared because you made up your mind about me already, which kinda makes me wonder why you said anything in the first place!”

“I didn't, Dean.”

“Yeah, you did. You thought I'd be all close minded and disgusted by it.”

“And you were. You called me a 'perverted little bitch'.” Sam looked up and 'smiled' at the memory.

“I was shocked.”

“Oh right, okay then. So only what 6 hours have passed since we got here and now you think you're ready to have a relationship with me? Dean, I appreciate what you're trying to do but really, drop it. Please, just drop it.”

“I was awake for hours thinking about all that you said. Hell, I even cried thinking about it. And you. It all makes sense.”

“Dean.” Sam sighed heavily. “It has taken me most of my adult life to deal with this, not half a day.

“I know where I'm at, Sammy. Okay?” Dean moved around the beds in haste and got right up close to his brother. “I swear to God yesterday I thought I knew who Dean Winchester was and now, well I still ain't entirely sure but I need you to let me find out.”

Sam stepped back, instant tears formed in his eyes, his arms flailed about his head dramatically as if trying to magic his brother away. He ran out of room and backed up against the wall. Dean had him.

“Dean. If you do this, it will ruin.” Sam sniffed. “Everything!”

Dean was determined. Dean was many things, but he knew his own mind, he was smart and he didn't make excuses for any of his behaviors. Good or bad. He held Sams' head and hooked his hair behind his ears.

“It's okay, Sammy.” He kissed his forehead softly, something he had done many times.

“Please, Dean. Don't.” Dean's thumbs ran over his brother's wet cheeks. His stomach was tied into a thousand knots and so was his little brothers.

“I'm gonna kiss you now. And I got butterflies, I ain't gonna lie to you, baby boy.”

Sam sniffed and nodded, then looked up at the ceiling, his stomach churning, he looked back at his brother. Dean smiled at him, slid his hands through his hair, looked at Sams' mouth, licked his lips then leaned in slowly and kissed him deeply. Sam whimpered against Deans' mouth, he was still tense but felt himself sink into it and hold his brother tightly around the waist.

For five solid minutes, they kissed. It became greedy and wet and was filled with the sound of deep grunts and satisfied whines. Hands slid into hair, around waists, and over asses. Dean felt his jaw begin to stiffen and reluctantly pulled away, but still leaning in and planting light kisses on Sams' mouth. He held Sams' neck lightly, his thumb rubbing that gorgeous jawline, he kissed him again then realized that they were both hard and jutting up against one another.

“Dean.” Was all Sam could muster. His mouth was wet and lips swollen.

“Yeah. I kinda knew that would happen. Damn. It ain't weird is it?”

Sam shook his head then sucked his cheeks into his mouth as Dean rolled his hips against his.

“You're obscene.” It was true, Dean was. He was also crawl the walls crazy aroused and now didn't quite know what to do. He looked at Sam for some kind of guidance who just simply shrugged.

“I didn't really prepare for this.”


End file.
